


Parasitism

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Series: i've got eyes to watch you sleep [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Typical Weirdness, Character Study, Jealousy, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-Sexual Bondage, Obsession, Other, POV Multiple, Rope Bondage, Suspension Bondage, Voyeurism, elias being a creep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16655530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: Jon is never lonely.





	Parasitism

**Author's Note:**

> you dont really need to read the last one in the series its just elias being weird Again
> 
> listen its all just a big idk read the tags
> 
> not beta'd

Jonathan Sims does not love his god, and Elias Bouchard is enraged beyond measure.  
  
There was a certain inherent trust with ignorance, a guarantee that even if Jon didn't like reading the statements, he'd do it for his paycheck, and however shallow the relationship between them was, it was there. It was real. Beholding was getting fed, and what else could ever matter?  
  
But now that Jon is learning, discovering, becoming what he was always meant to be, Evolving into the perfect Archivist, his perfect Archivist, there is a regrettable inherent distrust in the known.  
  
Elias could only guess- no. He knew exactly what brought this about no matter what The Beholding insisted. Of course, deference to his god came first but realistically, Jon was- regrettably- more human than not still. And this was absolutely a disgusting remnant of humanity. Like children rebelling against their parents. Teenagers who think they can change the world they don't like. Anarchists rallying against governments.  
  
All of his disgusting fraternization with the others- Elias could literally count the ways.  
  
When he's busy Seeing the others or Seeing The Stranger's lackeys scuttling around, he'll forget to pay attention to Jon- and sure, his mistake, but he can only See so much at once. The Beholding had not granted him omniscience.  
  
At least not yet.  
  
Still, when he would return his attention to his Archivist, late at night when Jon was getting ready to go to bed in his miserable dingy apartment, and there would be a new scar on him. His body was a mess, covered in so many different scars, so many treasonous acts.  
  
Elias spends an inordinate amount of time studying him when Jon is unaware of any attention. The lines of soft out of shape muscle and dry skin. He's not traditionally pretty, some part of Elias's hindbrain knows that much at least, but traditionally pretty has never been an interest for him.  
  
Jon is an interest for him.  
  
Elias knows, Sees, the planes of Jon's body as well as his own. At first, when it was just the scars from the Corruption, Elias busied himself memorizing every single location. Poor weak almost human Jon had twenty-four of those nasty things in him. Some deeper than others- but most on soft tissue. His upper arms, his thighs, his belly, his upper back. Maybe Elias should gift him a  gym membership for the holidays.  
  
He wouldn't of course, he's much too fond of Jon's softness to passive-aggressively suggest Jon better himself.  
  
Then, the next scar. On right wrist, could almost be accidental if it wasn't for how precise Spiral's finger sunk into willing meat. He could almost believe Jon's excuse the next day if he had been able to See him for those measly five minutes. Whatever lesson Jon was supposed to learn from it, obviously it didn't stick. The blindspot made his blood boil more than any of the rest but still- that was nothing.  
  
Jon came to his office with a gun pressed to his temple and his arm covered in second degree burns still dizzy from vertigo, and Elias acts surprised. He remembers that night better as the first time he's ever been compelled. Exceptionally intoxicating. Of course, it is.  
  
His Perfect Archivist.  
  
Months, years, even of slow and patient work to produce something near godliness. He's a creator in his own right, a god in his own right, birthing a creature more beautiful than himself in the name of The Beholding.  
  
There's a conversation to be had about Jon's awful habits. His insatiable interactions with all of the others.  
  
There's rope in his drawers.  
  
He can't remember why he bought it, but when he takes it out and lets it rest in his hands, the nylon cording feels like the only correct course of action.  
  
Jon would fight, of course, but if he could spin it the right way, in just the right way, then he's sure Jon will be more then happy to agree. 

  
...

  
Jon's god doesn't love him.  
  
That much is evident as he hangs in Elias' office, half-naked, suspended and tied up in cotton and nylon rope. His legs bent and arms folded behind his back, hair coming close to brushing the floor. The door is locked, and the blinds are drawn, and he hangs in the air and feels eyes on him.  
  
Elias' of course, the man is sitting at his desk and pretending to do paperwork, but others too.  
  
He doesn't know who they belong too, if his awful god is one of them or not, but he feels them. Eyes raking over every inch of his exposed skin make him feel Jude's touch again- or maybe its the blood rushing to his head.  Every inch of him, even with his boxers still on, feels exposed.  
  
“Who's watching me, Elias?”  
  
“Everyone who can, I think.”  
  
“That's not a helpful answer.”  
  
Elias laughs, and Jon feels something twist his ropes, making his entire body spin.  
  
The first time Elias offered to tie him, Jon spat in his face and left the office. It was a joke- some kind of cruel trick- and on top of everything else and he simply couldn't handle it. It was the line. But no- the urge came with the shaking in America. Something to hold him, solid, unrelenting. To feed what feeds him in every single way he possibly can- anything to make the growing ache Stop.  
  
“Who do you want to watch you?”  
  
“No one.”  
  
“Oh, come on, Jon. We both know that's not true.”  
  
And it isn't.  
  
He hates that it isn't.  
  
Being watched- being something to be discovered, to be learned, a display of poor control and hidden power for anyone to learn what he is makes him happy. Irrationally, helplessly happy. Like he's fulfilling a purpose that he was born for. All of it is buried under an ocean's worth of disgust, but there's no denying that it's there.  
  
His god's pretty doll to be trotted out and put on display.  
  
“Who do you want to watch you, Archivist?”  
  
They start simple.  
  
Hands where Jon and Elias can both see them, simple knot, no big deal.  
  
He doesn't know at what point Elias has the hook installed in his ceiling. He doesn't ask when casual nudging to undress leads to him actually undressing. He doesn't know when The Eye starts staring, when all the others start staring, when it stopped being something to calm him down and when it turned him into a feast.  
  
“Fuck off Elias.”  
  
“A shame I can't just pull the answers from you like you can.”  
  
“And why is that, again?” He can't see him from where he's facing, but he can hear the way Elias's pen scratches off of the paper. Compulsion is so easy when he's serving his god. His cruel, uncaring god. Second nature, really.  
  
“It's-” He hears the telltale sign of someone trying to argue and fight it, hands gripping and deep inhales. “I'm answering because I want to.”  
  
“Of course you are.”  
  
He's a joke.  
  
Dangerous, sure.  
  
But a joke nonetheless.  
  
He gets satisfaction knowing that when the Eye stares, it stares at Corruption, at Spiral, at Desolation, even at Hunt and at Vast and even now, even now, at the Web. All of them got to him first. Their marks so much more evident, so much more present. His skin is a map of mistakes he reclaims in these moments as victories against something that doesn't deserve him.  
  
The ropes spin until he catches Elias's gaze on his thighs where his boxers slip down and expose more skin. Predictable. Shamelessly predictable.  
  
“Compulsion is for the Archivist. Omnipotence is for the Watcher.”  
  
“I remember you saying you weren't omnipotent. Or was that a lie too?”  
  
“Just not there yet.” Elias looks betrayed at his own mouth. “I would appreciate if you-”  
  
“Then gag me.” His knees are starting to hurt where the ropes dig in. “But then what am I good for without it?”  
  
“Everything.”  
  
He hopes, despite himself, that the heat in his chest doesn't make his skin too blotchy.

**Author's Note:**

> comments always appreciated
> 
> come [yell at me](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/)


End file.
